Let Me Guess - You Bought a Dress
by JeanieMD
Summary: The Commissioner's Gala is rescheduled
1. Chapter 1

"Let me guess – you bought a dress."

"Of course I bought a dress! But it's what I bought for under the dress that you're gonna wanna see."

ANDY

It's probably a crappy thing to say, but one of the worst things about Ted McDonald's bombings was the cancellation of the Commissioner's Gala. Not only the one that week, but even the next year – still too much reorganization going on. Cops don't get many opportunities to dress up, and when we do get out our dress uniforms it tends to be for one of two reasons: the happy but sort of dull one, for a medal presentation, and the sad one, for a funeral. But getting _really_ dressed up, guys in suits, women in dresses – no, not dresses, gowns! – not so much. This will be the first time since I joined the force.

Of course it's a different Commissioner's gala. The one who announced it originally is now sitting in a cell, convicted of corruption, awaiting his trial for murder. I try not to think about him.

The new guy is a career cop with a great service record, so the rescheduled gala is like a celebration of his appointment, a return to the trust and reputation of the Toronto Police Service.

The guys, of course, are complaining to anyone who'll listen, but I happen to know at least one who's actually excited. Sam, it turns out, loves to dance! I knew he liked to dress up - the way he rocked the dark suit and purple shirt during the car dealership sting was my first clue. But the dancing came as a surprise. The first time we danced was at our own wedding, mostly because it had never occurred to me to suggest it. Sam had almost no experience, but he's a natural. So now we go about once a month to a little club that has a live band. And sometimes we dance at home too, but that never lasts long enough. Slow dancing in private with Sam is more like foreplay.

So I've hauled out the dress I bought for the original gala, and the under-the-dress wear, such as it is, that I teased Sam about. The top of the dress is halter-style, high in front but almost backless; it has its own built-in bra. The skirt part is narrow all the way down but swirly around my ankles at the bottom. I guess the colour is bronze, and the fabric is silky and clingy. Panty lines would be really obvious. So it's the dress, and these sheer, sheer, horribly expensive thigh-high, lace-topped stockings, and shoes – and nothing else. Shameless, I know, but I don't go commando as a rule so I'll just tell Sam to please make extra sure we don't get into an accident on the way. Wouldn't want to shock the ER doctors and nurses. Especially if one of the nurses was Monica.

So I'm all set, and I'm really looking forward to tomorrow night.


	2. Chapter 2

-"Let me guess – you bought a dress."

"Of course I bought a dress! But it's what I bought for under the dress that you're gonna wanna see."

SAM

Yeah, I do want to see what's under the dress. One of my favourite things about McNally is the wide variety of her underwear. She's got her sporty stuff for running and the gym, all no-nonsense , no-see-through cotton (I guess); she's got cute boy shorts that look nothing like boys' shorts on her; she's got satin and lace bras, panties, thongs in so many colours. I never get tired of watching her dress – or even better, watching her take it off. If I'm not doing that for her. I can't help wondering what she's got for the gala. Can't think about it very long, though, or I'm gonna be useless for work.

I'll be wearing my new black suit. The one I had was in good shape but it was five years old, and even with alterations it didn't fit right. I'm in better shape than I was a couple of years ago – we eat better now that we stay home more, and I get more exercise. So, new suit; I was gonna get a new shirt but Andy said she really liked the purple one I wore for the sting so I'll wear that. New tie, though – she picked one out for me that's all purple and black swooshes.

I wonder what's gonna be under that dress.


	3. Chapter 3

The gala is a big success. The hotel ballroom is filled with flowers and twinkling little lights and all the hard-core cops are caught up in the fairy-tale atmosphere. The band is great – they play everything from big band to the latest Grammy winners (well, except for the rap and hip hop categories – too hard to dance to).

"This is nice," Andy sighs as they dance cheek to cheek. "I like the big-band numbers the best because they are great for slow dancing. I could do this forever."

"Yeah, it is nice," Sam agrees, pulling her even closer, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. He lets one hand drift down her back, over her hip, until it suddenly stops. He moves his hand cautiously, trying to be discreet, feeling around for the top edge of the panties that should be there. They aren't. He moves the hand farther around to where a thong might be, but that's not there either. Sam is hit by a sudden realization. "McNally, where's your underwear?"

"Underwear? Oh no," she gasps theatrically. "I must have forgotten!" She tries, not very successfully, to look horrified. She gives a little shimmy in his arms and his hands grip her reflexively, all that smooth muscle under the dress. "Sam, we should go home right away so I can get some."

"I don't think so," says Sam. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that this was her plan all along. "We should probably get off the dance floor though. Come here." He pulls her towards one of the doors. In the brightly-lit corridor outside the ballroom he turns his head from side to side, and Andy knows he's looking for somewhere a little more private. The main coat check is right across from the ballroom doors, but down at the end of the corridor it looks like there might be another one. Sam heads in that direction, pulling her along with him until she tells him to slow down.

"These heels aren't made for running," she complains, and without breaking stride Sam swoops her up over his shoulder and continues towards the semi-darkness of the cloakroom. Once inside he puts her down carefully, looks her over quickly, gives her what basically amounts to a pat-down, then shakes his head.

"I can't believe you're practically naked under that dress," he mutters. "I get that you couldn't wear a bra, but I didn't think that even you would do this!"

"I'm sorry, are you offended?" Andy asks, head tilted to one side.

"What do you think?" he growls, and suddenly he's gathering the skirt up her legs until he can get one hand underneath, feeling for himself. He cups her left cheek and gives a squeeze that almost but not quite hurts, then slides around to her front. Suddenly his fingers are working their way inside her, and Sam grins as he hears Andy gasp, then moan a little, those sounds that make him crazy.

"When you said I'd want to see what's under the dress, I didn't know it would be just you," he murmurs in her ear.

"Disappointed, Detective?"

"What do you think?" he asks for the second time, and his fingers move and twist and Andy gasps again.

"Maybe not too disappointed," she manages to get out, and Sam leans back a little so he can look at her face, all pink and flustered-looking.

"Not disappointed at all, Mrs. Swarek," Sam says, and makes his point by suddenly grabbing her and lifting her up so her legs wrap around him reflexively. It only takes seconds and he's got his zipper down, and seconds after that he's inside her.

"God, Andy, you're so ready for me," he groans, "So wet. You feel amazing."

"I've probably been ready since I got dressed at home," she confesses shyly, and he has to kiss her. He's constantly surprised by how much she excites him, even after all the time they've been together, all the times they've made love.

They don't very often take chances in public places, so there's an urgency about this that brings them both to a climax pretty quickly. They're both breathing hard and Sam moves to get a more secure grip on her. They rest, forehead to forehead until their breathing slows down a little, and then he lowers her gently until her feet are on the floor.

"Um," Andy begins, then stops, looking slightly embarrassed. "I need something to clean up with or my dress will be ruined, not to mention that people will know exactly what we've been doing."

Sam reaches into his pocket and pulls out a clean white handkerchief with a flourish.

"My mother always told me that a gentleman should carry a handkerchief for emergencies. I think this qualifies."

"A handkerchief? Where did you get one of those?" Andy asks with amusement. "I can't remember the last time I saw a real one. Most people use tissues."

"We may be married, but you don't know absolutely everything about me," Sam replies with a certain satisfaction. "I have my little secrets."

"Well, I'm glad you do. Could I have it please?"

"Oh, you want to do it yourself? I'd be happy to help," Sam says with exaggerated politeness.

"I don't think so, thank you very much. We have to get back," Andy says sternly, finishing her little clean-up operation and looking around a little anxiously.

"What's the matter?" Sam asks, and Andy answers with another question.

"What do I do with this now?"

Sam spots a wastebasket in the corner of the cloakroom and points it out to her. "It's not a family heirloom, Andy. Just drop it in there and let's head back. I feel refreshed and ready for another dance."

"Who are you, and what have you done with my serious, sometimes even grouchy husband?" Andy says, shaking her head. She loves the changes she is still discovering in this man she adores. Life with Sam is never dull, she thinks as they start back towards the ballroom, where the band is still playing and their friends are probably wondering where they are.

"Everybody will know what we've been doing," she frets. "We've been away too long."

"McNally, we've been gone less than ten minutes!" Sam points out, a touch of smugness in his voice.

"Are you serious? Only ten minutes?" Andy asks incredulously. "I suppose you're pretty impressed with yourself, huh?"

"Well, speed isn't my normal preference, but under the circumstances I thought it might be advisable. I can demonstrate a more leisurely approach at home."

"I'm sure you will," Andy says with a laugh, and they head back in to the party.


	4. Chapter 4

When the valet brought the truck around, Sam looked at Andy, so tired she was drooping a little, and shook his head. "This just isn't right," he muttered under his breath.

She heard him though. "What's not right?"

"Look at you, all glamorous – you should be getting into a limo, or a fancy sportscar, not a big old truck."

"You know I love your truck," Andy protested.

"And that's something else. How come you still call it my truck? We're married, aren't we? So it's your truck too," Sam grumbled.

"Okay, my truck too. But I'm not sure I can actually climb up into it right now," Andy said, yawning.

"Sorry, sweetheart – here, let me..." Sam said quickly and he took hold of her carefully, his hands spanning her waist, lifting her easily and setting her on the seat.

"Mmmm, thank you," Andy murmured, and let her head fall back against the headrest. Sam reached across her and clicked her seat belt into place, then went around to get in on the driver's side.

"So I guess it's okay for me to drive tonight?" Sam asked with a grin, smiling to himself as he realized that she had already fallen asleep. _No wonder she is tired_ , he thought, _all that dancing, and our little side trip to the cloakroom. I'm gonna have to carry her inside when we get home._

Sam parked the truck and was careful not to slam the door when he got out. After undoing the seatbelt he eased her down, leaning her against the side of the truck while he got that door closed. Then he picked her up, enjoying the warmth of her body as he carried her up to their front door. The new keypad lock made it easier to get inside, and after kicking off his shoes he headed straight to their bedroom, setting her down on the side of the bed.

Andy murmured a little but didn't wake up. She started to roll onto her side, her normal sleeping position, but Sam stopped her gently. "Wait a second, sweetheart – let me get you ready for bed," he whispered. He reached down to pick up one foot, easing it out of her high-heeled shoe. He lifted the hem of her dress and with a very delicate touch peeled the fragile, sheer, lace-topped stocking down her leg and off over her toes. Repeating his actions with the other leg, he placed the shoes and stockings carefully out of the way so she wouldn't trip over them if she got up during the night.

He paused for a moment, working out the logistics of removing the dress. He turned her to one side and slid the zipper down carefully; that done, he reached for the halter top, trying to figure out how it worked. He had expected ties but instead there was a hook-and-eye closing, and that was a snap to undo.

 _Now, McNally, how do I actually get it off you? Up and over your head, or slide it down? Pretty sure down will be easier than up, so..._ Sam took the two pieces of the halter top in each hand, pulling gently to get the top of the dress down her torso, then slid one hand under her hips to lift them slightly so he could get it out from beneath her. _Looks like we're good here,_ _sweetheart. Just a little farther, till I get it past your feet._ Once he had it clear he draped it over the chair, and turned back to his sleeping wife.

He rolled Andy slightly towards the edge of the bed so he could get the covers out from underneath her, letting her roll back again so he could cover her warmly. _I'm a pretty damn good husband, McNally – you are very tempting right now, and very vulnerable, and it would be so easy to take advantage of that. But I actually like it a lot better when you are an active participant._ He straightened up and went into the bathroom, coming back with a soft washcloth that he had wrung out in warm water. Moving her hair away from her face, taking a moment to coil some around his fingers, he gently wiped her face. _I like that you don't wear a lot of makeup, you know – you sure don't need it. So beautiful._ After patting her skin dry with a little hand towel he headed back to the bathroom, where he got undressed and brushed his teeth.

 _I'm tired, but it was a great night, and what makes it even better is climbing into bed and spooning with you. Good night, my darling._ Sam gathered Andy into his arms, sighed contentedly, closed his eyes, and was asleep in seconds.


End file.
